Chương 322: The cost of your ambitions

Two spectral arms struck out, only to be sundered by a swing of a mirror blade as its wielder split into multiple omens of what could be while sidestepping the strikes. However a moment later a chiming rang out in the empty air above the sundered throne room - somehow in harmony with the song that was echoing out from Serene's projection and resounding above the whole capital - as a four-ringed staff connected with an armored side, detonating with mana-hungry blue cracks and unfurling nothingness.

Barriers were conjured, some holding while others were sundered. Strikes were reflected and feinted, and mana and life force were rent from both combatants while their impressive gold-ranked recovery, artifacts and powers strove to keep them in the fight. Kite had no idea how long they had been clashing by now, time feeling odd and distorted as they moved so much faster than much of the world around them while also being able to shrug off vastly more punishment.

The King's array was shattered, whatever boosting power he had used dispelled what felt like half a lifetime ago, and still the man fought on with even greater fervor, the determination which had let him climb to the top of Hua-Xi's dueling hierarchy and remain there on full display. Kite had to hold on, but could also push. Had been pushing for some time now, sacrificing spectral arms with abandon to land other strikes in return.

Mana was the only resource he could still spend freely, after all, compared to his health and stamina. The healing blessing of his War-Seeds had waxed and waned frequently, keeping his body intact enough to go on while Sage had been forced back into his body, Kite not wanting to risk the familiar's form needlessly but to keep it in reserve for when the right moment came. And from how things were going, that might be sooner.

Reconjuring his lost spectral arms to cover the side where his own limb was missing, Kite had the freshly formed limbs block a vicious slash through interlocking both bladed shield and twin hatchets to hold on while not one, but four attacks were delivered in response from Kite's remaining arm and those of the mantle's other side. Two of them even connected, eating further into the King's reserves. But not of mana, but life.

Given how much red flowed before Kite's magical perception, he would be surprised if the other man had more than mere dregs of mana left; just enough to keep conscious while paying with his life force for anything spent or taken. Part of Kite wanted to throw out another offer of surrender to the other man, but he knew that it would be rejected. First, Kite wasn't in that much of a dominating position to be completely confident, and second, he already knew of the King's resolve.

There were few options but to go on, even if the result of either man winning would cost Hua-Xi a powerful warrior.

As the briefest of stunning effects from multiple Chakra Implosions then took hold once more, Kite shoved outwards with his remaining barrier of the latest casting of Heaven-and-Void Warding, but instead of staying back and using more projected attacks, this time Kite sprang forward using stored momentum from Unyielding to charge after the moving barrier and use it to drive the King into a sizeable piece of floating rubble while Kite kept striking with the spear Ardent had gifted him.

The force sent the piece of tiled roof straining against the failing array, which was soon unable to hold and the debris was sent flying down to crash into other parts of the palace compound below. This also freed the King, whose flight artifact let him right himself and cut through the barrier before returning Kite's charge. Once more, his mirror blade sent out a flurry of strikes to harry Kite's latest series of conjured barriers while one of them also shattered the pane of force upon which Kite was standing.

And it was in that moment that Kite saw an opening in what seemed a mere setback, the opportunity highlighted in stark clarity in the depths of his combat meditation. There was an advantage to be seized, as long as he was willing to pay the prize. And this far into the grueling dueling, there was nothing to hold back anymore. So instead of immediately righting himself, Kite let himself start falling, whereupon the King immediately seized the chance the relative high 'ground' suddenly afforded him.

One strike sundered an interposed barrier before a lighting-quick reversal let the King make a mighty downward slash with all his gold-ranked strength levered behind it. The interposed sword of a spectral arm met it, but the phantom limb strained and then dissolved before the sheer force of the blow and a moment later the mirror-blade cut deep into Kite's shoulder just to the side of his neck.

It was only through the slight force of the block and Kite's excellent armor that he managed to turn the blow enough to avoid being beheaded, because while a gold-ranker might be able to survive even that in itself, it would still spell his certain death mere moments later. Even through the explosion of feedback that was not quite pain, Kite still gritted his teeth as he executed the plan that this sacrifice had set up.

A new pair of barriers appeared to steady him, and while this had the unfortunate side-effect of letting the King's blade cut deeper, it let him firmly plant his feet as two of the spectral arms on Kite's right side withdrew a heavy greatsword trailing black smoke. It was one of the other weapons Kite had on loan from Gleam, the weapon's enchantments able to project its slices through the whole of the billowing smoke it could spread and thus helping Kite manage potential hordes of foes a bit better.

But at this moment, what was actually important was the weapon's bulk as Kite swung it with all his might while the nothingness of Void-Sunders-Firmament mixed with the smoke, aiming not for the King's armored side, but his legs. More specifically, his lower legs where the projected rings of flight enchantments kept the man aloft. The King realized what was coming, of course, but his mirror-blade was stuck deep enough into Kite's shoulder that his parry came too late.

In one mighty swing only made possible by his suddenly lower elevation, Kite cleaved straight through both of the King's calves. The pull of the earth took hold immediately, causing the King to start falling. In a burst of regenerative prowess that no doubt cost a hefty amount of mana-turned-lifeforce, a pair of new feet were grown within a heartbeat, but those did not wear the artifact anklets.

The King instinctively triggered another artifact on his person which started slowing his fall, but that turned out to be a mistake as Kite then started raining blows upon the sedately falling form of the monarch as he ran after, stepping upon panes of force like a downward set of spiraling stairs as he ran, and just as the King deactivated the effect in the hopes of his fall carrying him out of Kite's range faster, Kite struck again.

He let one flailing sword omen strike him, only to have the pulse of retributive force from Unyielding's gold-rank ascension burst out from him and slam the other man downwards with much greater momentum than expected. Shattered stone flew in every direction when the King impacted the floor of the throne room below, landing squarely on his back just as Kite let himself fall as well.

One conjured pane of force near one hand let him reverse direction and - in a feat no armored person beneath gold rank should be able to - flip over so that his feet rested against the bottom of the barrier. In one suspended moment, it was as if Kite stood upside down and looked downward - or upwards, from his perspective - while meeting the gaze of King of the Pure Firmament. There was no time for words, but the spirit was faster.

Throughout the clash, the two men's auras had ground against one another, Kite unable to push the King back but readily holding his own, and it was through that spiritual connection that Kite sent a pulse. Not of words, but of emotion and the other vague aspects the aura could transmit.

"Surrender", Kite's spirit seemed to say as it projected determination and an ever so slight reluctance for the misled monarch, but the flash in the King's eyes as well as that of his spirit spoke its own clear language. Love, old and deep. Unshakeable pride. Determination. Defiance" Unacceptable."

Then the moment had passed, and Kite pushed off, spending whatever stored force was left in Unyielding to shoot himself downwards, Immutable Echo already swinging as one spectral arm from Kite's left side helped his own right one steady the swing and provide what force it could.

The head of the chiming staff trailed both void and blue, the latter a roaring storm as it was fed a charge from Potential of Stolen Power, and in the blink of an eye Kite was within range, the strike against the prone form of the King near completion." Aegis of the Mirror Guard!"

Just as the strike was about to connect, the mirror form of the King's most potent defense appeared once more, to reflect the strike back towards Kite many times over and punish him for his audacity in thinking he could best the nemesis incarnate that was King of the Pure Firmament. But unseen, another spectral arm had already started flickering forward in another strike that was hard to track even for the most perceptive of foes thanks to a certain blade whose true shape few truly knew.

Once born of Discord's church and now made anew by Hua-Xian heritage, The Veiled One's Judgment struck the aegis a mere moment before Kite's staff made contact with the reflective image that would spell catastrophic failure for his strike. Kite had always found the sound of his Disrupting Strike taking hold to be akin to a distant mirror breaking, and never had it been so literal as the Mirror Guard of the King shattered before the dispelling force.

Gold-ranked perception let both men track what happened, Kite registering the emotions in the King's eyes through the scattering remnants of his defensive power. Surprise, pure and genuine. Chagrin. Rage. Defiance. Sorrow. And love, only ever so slightly tinted with doubt and bitterness, as if the revelations that day was a mere stain in the bottom corner of a masterpiece put to canvas.

Then the staff strike landed in the middle of the King's chest, Void-Sunders-Firmament and the Empowered Chakra Implosion tearing a hole in the armor and causing his chest to detonate from the inside. Kite had always found the bodies of higher rankers very curious, as they reacted so differently to damage that ate into a more abstract concept of life force and vitality. Some barely seemed damaged at all until they were at the end of their rope, while others constantly regenerated with lightning speed.

The King seemed to have been a bit of both, burning his life force instead of the mana Kite's myriad effects and his own path claimed from him to appear mostly fine while swiftly regenerating what gashes and holes did appear. But now, his mana was all spent, and all of his life along with it, his body frantically trying to survive the dual assault that claimed so much of both his bodily and magical reservoirs only to find them all dried up. Empty.

That was how King of the Pure Firmament died, having given all that he had and more for a bond that transcended reason. Kite felt the monarch's aura wink out as he rolled to the side from the force of his own strike, landing awkwardly while trying to clear the haze from his mind and vision, as it seemed like his own life force wasn't in a much better state than the monarch's.

Then there was a scream, a surge of smoke which rippled with an odd light that warped the air, a slightly too sluggish arm raised in defense and a mind just a bit too slow to produce the coherency needed for a spell. And then Kite too saw no more. As Ametrine stood there, the lingering light of her Disharmonious Disintegration fading from around her outstretched hands, she found herself - among other things - truly, genuinely baffled.

Not at the excruciating chill of her left hand starting to crystallize from where one of the empowering rings based on the artifact brought back by Young Master Valor rested, having empowered her at the steep cost of a long-time recovery. Not at actually managing to land the touch upon the Pathbreaker, the younger man clearly being severely injured to a degree not even a gold-ranker could simply ignore.

To reach him through her own shifting smoke that helped conceal her presence was something her path - even core-fueled as it was - excelled at, especially as long as only that single touch to deliver her execution power was needed. No, what still shook Ametrine was the scream which had ripped from her mouth unbidden as she saw that final strike of the Pathbreaker land just as she came into view. Her whole spirit shook with agony hitherto unknown to her, but not that of a soul attack but that of emotion.

What was happening? Was this her? Could that still form truly be her King, her blade, her undefeatable guardian? No, it could not be. That was not the way of things. These emotions weren't supposed to… The plan. She needed to bring assistance. To protect the ritual. And yet, Ametrine found herself walking over to where the King lay, eyes unseeing and bereft of spirit. He was dead. The Pathbreaker was too, but Ametrine wasn't sure if that mattered anymore. There was no help to be found.

She would need to find another solution. She– She…

"This… This wasn't how it was supposed to go…" Ametrine murmured as she knelt by her King's side, reaching over and pulling his head into her robed lap. She had no idea why. The daze would not leave, and it did not help either that the song which had begun to echo out across the city some time ago seemed to take on a hint of mourning to its melody, resonating with Ametrine's spirit.

She closed the King's eyes gently and began gathering his hair back into the small crown that would keep his traditional topknot in place - an act she had done many times and that which he had always enjoyed - and for some reason, just kept on speaking. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

"You were supposed to defeat him, my blade. Then come and join my side. We were– We were supposed to rule this kingdom, creating so many opportunities for you in the heart of strife. You were supposed to grow even stronger after all this time, now that the grand undertaking was completed. You weren't supposed to die. Not here. Not ever. We– Our vow was supposed to stand eternal through our climb towards the heavens." The words were nonsense, and yet Ametrine could not bring herself to stop.

Her King was supposed to have been her blade. A tool. But that tool had been with her for so long now. Dependable. Reliable. Where did– When did something stop being a mere convenience and become a companion? Ametrine felt that these words of hers should have been accompanied by tears, but those had ceased existing in her life long ago. She knew that some gold-rankers could cry while others could not, the body getting rid of certain functions the soul - consciously or not - deemed superfluous.

Did she wish that she could now? Ametrine wasn't sure. She only knew that she was being completely irrational at the moment, but somehow couldn't bring herself to stop. Because she also knew that something had been ripped from her that day, only its absence bringing into stark contrast just what it had been. Or at least what it had grown into over long years together. Ametrine did not even know how to define the bond, words feeling superfluous and not quite fitting.

She only knew that the conflicting emotions inside her - so painful and overwhelming - might at least be pleasing to divine Discord. It was the thought of her god that finally snapped Ametrine out of it, bringing back a semblance of clarity through the haze of grief. That, and the sound of shattering crystal inside one of the pockets of her flowing sleeves.

Virtuous Mirror had lost all sense of time, channeling the magics he had practiced for years as he felt the presence of his god flow through him with gradually increasing speed. This was what he had prepared for. The reason he had been elevated to silver rank and taught the inner teachings of Discord. He was a vessel, willing and accepting that he would be one of the conduits through which the heart of Discord's garden would bloom.

Within the hour, they would be done, the very first fluttering sparks of the domain already coming to life in the circle's midst. From there, it would spread, feasting upon the strife and chaos outside as it grew and enveloped. Virtuous Mirror would not get to witness it personally. His vessel would not survive, but that did not matter. Not when performing the acts of the divine.

Not when being part of making the greatest blow to the constricting order of this world which had kept down so many for so long - Virtuous Mirror one of them - as they were denied their chance to grasp at power. But throughout this ritual, Virtuous Mirror had gotten to commune with something so much greater, being part of something vast and undeniable. Something that was everywhere in the world, and that would finally have a place - a domain - to call its own.

There was nothing more worthwhile to sacrifice himself for, of that Virtuous Mirror was sure. However, he also knew that all was not well, even subsumed in the trance of the ritual as he was. The strife around them which empowered the secondary rituals which in turn empowered this main working had been fluctuating oddly. There was conflict, but something was happening to it. He had seen it on the face of the lead ritualist several times, but Virtuous Mirror still held faith.

Discord could not be circumvented or avoided. They would soon succeed. They would– That was when the arrays at the ceiling of the underground, concealed ritual chamber started flaring. Most of his mind caught up in the ritual, Virtuous Mirror could only stare with the fragment that remained as the arrays flared brighter and brighter. What was going on? Why would they? Weren't those the ones that kept the integrity of the ritual chambers intact? The mana stable enough? How could they be under strain?

What could– Then with a pop the arrays broke in a spray of sparks before part of the stone ceiling was torn asunder, and the descending stones had not even touched the ground before the chains arrived. Chains, and fire. And then Virtuous Mirror knew only a single concept. Not the touch of his god. Not the sense of the divine and magic flowing through him. Only pain.

"- and as such, the Sect Leader has ordered us to wait and observe so as not to risk this being a mere ploy from our enemies. Await word, but keep an eye out for opportunities to make sure that members of our rival sects fail in whatever they are attempting. The glory of the Singing Grove Sect is paramount." The words still echoed in the mind of Junior Elder Clearwater as he made his way back in the wake of his assigned elder to rejoin their students on watch.

Why would they not immediately strike at the undead appearing in the capital? They were of the dark powers. Lives were at stake. And why did nobody try to intervene with the other conflicts around the city, some of which tore apart building after building in rapid succession. Still, the sect leader's words - as conveyed through the grand elder - had been clear. It just… This wasn't what Clearwater had imagined when he accepted his position. Few things during these last five years were.

But he was a silver-ranker, and a junior elder, part of a hierarchy which had existed for hundreds of years. It was his place to fight for the honor of the sect, but the sect leader was the one responsible for that direction… As such, Junior Elder Clearwater found himself barely listening as the elder he followed relayed the words to the two dozen sect warriors - silver- and bronze-rankers - who waited in a fortified square.

His mind abuzz with memories of similar situations over the years, Clearwater found himself wishing he had been more powerful. Powerful enough to not need to take orders, but issue them himself. To voice his opinion, not just execute that of others. What made it all worse was that just a city block down from their position, others fought as waves of undead nightmares were kept at bay by a mixed group consisting of members of the Silent Horizon Sect and the Autumn Wanderer's Guild.

They fought, bled and protected the houses, streets and people around them to the best of their abilities as other injured members helped evacuate the citizens who had not already fled. Junior Elder Clearwater found himself unable to look away as another creature entered the fray, far more powerful; a gold-ranked undead shaped like a huge knight made from warped bone swinging a mace burning with blue flames.

And instead of fleeing, the silvers of the other group banded together to try to hold it off, but there weren't too many of them present. Accompanied by that pervasive song which had started up some time ago, the scene set something astir in Clearwater's heart. This… They were doing something. Something he could not. But… was… that really the case? Before he knew it, that thought had claimed him, springing out from where it had been stashed away deeply in the back of Clearwater's mind.

"Junior Elder? What are you– Halt! Junior Elder! In the name of the sect, I–" But Junior Elder Clearwater was already moving down the street, his lower legs turning into a torrent of sloshing water as he started accelerating while a straight sword of gleaming white appeared in his hand.

It was the water and pure essences that had given rise to his earned name, after all, and as one of his supplementary boons heightening his perception flared to life inside him, Clearwater reached the undead just as it was starting to bring its mace down towards a trio of guild adventurers, the shield-wielder at their front creating a boundary to defend the two more spell-oriented others as they kept unleashing hungry vines and bolts of ripping dimensional forces.

"Clean Cut." Clearwater's blade drew a white line across the raised arm, and even through the rank disparity his momentum managed to shift the blow and rob it of some force, meaning that the shieldbearer's barrier managed to hold." Rising Torrent. Spread the Clear Waters." A boon bestowing increased mana regeneration rippled out from him even as Clearwater shot into the air to keep up his assault. The guild members only seemed held up for a moment before they joined him.

They battered the thing for well over a minute while narrowly avoiding death by the massive mace even as others helped keep the lesser undead away from them. But then, the fickle tides of fate provided a twist. A burst of necrotic damage sent the ground rippling and sagging as if turning into a quagmire, only for it to then slosh like churning waves. This broke the formation of the guild members, once more leaving the shield-wielder exposed, an opportunity which the undead took as it swung.

And from what Clearwater could see with his now heightened perception, the strike would not risk only the guild warrior, but the whole building behind him that was still in the process of being evacuated. There was no time for further thought, as only one remained in Clearwater's mind. Without hesitation, he shot forward once more, appearing in front of the shield-wielder and unleashing his most potent attack."

Infallible Stroke of the Perfected Blade" Another cascade of bright light blinded everyone present beside Clearwater himself, who could clearly see the results of his intervention in crisp clarity as it seemed as if time moved at a crawl as the mace broke and shattered apart. Then came the fist wielding it, forceful and inevitable. Clearwater knew that he would not have the time to move. But at least that fist was not potent enough to risk the building and people. It would have to do.

Then it impacted him in another flash of light that robbed him of sight. Of feeling much anything really. But as Junior Elder Clearwater of the Singing Grove Sect fell to the ground, he could at least still hear, at least for a few moments. He heard the gasps of the adventurers and the immediate resumption of a battle still not won. He heard the song that rose towards the skies from somewhere in the distance, radiant and free, much like his heart felt now that he had finally acted for himself.

It had been a long time coming. And the last thing he heard before even sound started fading was a familiar battle cry. Disciple Heron. And that other? Was that– yes, Inner Disciples Lake Hunter and White Otter, unified as always. And finally, belated, that of his ranking elder present, as the nearby members of the Singing Grove Sect joined the fray.

Her god was silent as Ametrine reached into her sleeve and retrieved the broken pieces of crystal which had previously shone with a rising glow as the ritual was nearing its first stage of completion. And knowing what that meant, Ametrine had thought that her god might have said something; offered advice, a lament, or even raged at her - their - failure. Because that crystal had been linked to the ritual. Which meant that if it had broken, so too had their undertaking. Their plans. Their grand purpose.

And with it, Discord had turned their eyes from her. Perhaps the whole kingdom. For the second time in short order, Ametrine found herself standing frozen in place, but this time from a sheer emptiness that shoved even the shock and grief to the side. What? How was this possible? She should have had time. To fetch reinforcements. To make a difference. Once more, Ametrine knew with a distinct and utter surety that this was not how things were supposed to go. All was falling apart.

All of the conflicts in the city around her suddenly held no meaning, only a background buzz and potential hazard. Hazard. Danger. She… she had to go. It had been long since the instinct for self-preservation rose in Ametrine so strongly as it did in that moment, snapping her out of her stupor. From the feel of their auras, Altessia was still battling somewhere nearby but completely embroiled in it. Good. She would be an ample distraction for anyone who came looking. Giving Ametrine time to make her escape.

Perhaps even fetch a few things stashed away in other parts of the castle. She could start anew, even through the pain. Even through the loss of her Ki– Ametrine slapped herself hard to banish the grief that once again burst forth. Not now. There wouldn't be time. Perhaps ever. But just as she started making plans of where to head first, she saw it; a tiny spark of rainbow light that flickered into being in the air close to where her King still lay.

Then that spark grew into a small vortex that rapidly increased in both intensity and size. What? A manifestation? Here? What monster could– Then Ametrine felt the aura burst to life inside that vortex, and then she started running. Too late." Wall!" Panes of force surrounded her just as she shifted into smoke, forming a solid cage of layered barriers that interlocked to not even let a wisp of her through.

Simply being in their presence caused their magic to start invading her, building up a charge that would rip her mana from her if ever given the chance. Then four vortices appeared around the condensing rainbow light, locking onto her and further sealing her fate. And a mere few heartbeats after that he appeared, suspended in the air for a mere moment before his bare feet touched down onto the ruined throne room floor. WWJS: Congratulations! Your power [Immortality] has reached Gold 0.

[Immortality] has gained additional effects. Immortality (Phoenix) - Special ability (healing, recovery). Cost: None. Cooldown: 24 hours. Current rank: Gold 0 Effect - Iron: Instantly restore a large portion of health, mana, and stamina. Amount restored is based on how depleted health, mana, and stamina are when the ability is activated. Effect - Bronze: Gain ongoing health, mana, and stamina recovery effects.

The strength of these effects is based on how depleted health, mana, and stamina are when the ability is activated. Effect - Silver: Gain a long cooldown purgation ability that removes all afflictions from the user ignoring any restrictions or immunities to purgation. Effect - Gold: This power will automatically activate upon death, allowing the user to return even from full-body annihilation. This effect has a separate cooldown of one year.

"High Priestess," Kite Flown in on Winds of Fortune, known as the Pathbreaker and Sentinel of the Gates, greeted her somberly as his previously naked form was enveloped in a flash of gray light that left him clad in his impressive armor, only his worn soulbound items having survived the disintegrating touch bequeathed by Ametrine's god.

One of them appeared in his hands next, a ringed staff that chimed in a way that seemed oddly harmonious with the song echoing over the capital, and he pointed it towards where Ametrine floated, still trying to find her way out of that enclosing cage. To anywhere but here.

"It might seem odd coming from me, but I am sorry for your loss," Kite continued, his eyes and aura hinting at some sympathy before they hardened.

"But I also believe that it is high time for a reckoning between us. Because the cost of your ambitions for this kingdom - my home - which you have taken great strides to corrupt, will be great indeed."